A Royal Fugging

Charles: Er... I say, 'Milla, don't mean to be a bother, but... something rather naughty is trying to attack.

Camilla: Ooohh, filthy! Do hush up and smile, Pickles. If you talk like that I'm going to get all bothered.

Charles: No, Randy Pants, what I meant was, there's this enormous thing erected on your...

Camilla: You are a horny old hound! If you touch me with that, Wiggle, then I simply won't be able to keep my skirt from going over my head. You know I don't totally adore playing the bagpipe in public...

Charles: Don't tease me, Love Pouch -- I was just referring to the rather aggressive-looking creature that's about to tear off your head.

Camilla: I don't know what you're talking about, Trouser Snake, but in about two seconds I'm going to rip off this hat and use it to hide behind while I give the crown jewels a good polish.

Charles: I... Hat? ... Oh.

The dress ended up understated, flattering, and elegant. But the hat... oh, Camilla, the hat. Has Mischa Barton gotten to her, too? Is the bony waif's fug vibe going transatlantic? Why on Earth would Camilla want to look like an awards-show statuette on her wedding day? It's like Charles just accepted a trophy for Excellence in Using The Public's Love of Weddings As A Way of Waving Off The Stench of Public Scandal. Or perhaps Camilla didn't choose the hat at all, and was in fact just crowned "Best Supporting She-Male" by a grateful British press corps.

Actually, I confess: I generally think Camilla gets a raw deal and isn't as fugly as the press portrays her to be. But I can't help her when she goes and wears hats that look like the an unfriendly wind just ruffled through her faux-Farrah feathers. Unless she's just trying to distract from her husband's ever-more-balding head by shaping her own headgear to resemble the world's worst female combover.